


paint me the colours of sky and rain

by kimaracretak



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Awkward Flirting, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, MayThe4th Treat, Painting on Skin, Post-Finale, Teasing, i think this might count as sickfic i rarely write fluff and never know how to tag it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-30 19:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak
Summary: Hera doesn't do well with being grounded. Sabine helps her pass the time.





	paint me the colours of sky and rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DuaeCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuaeCat/gifts).



> Title from Poets of the Fall, 'Roses'.
> 
> Set sometime post- _Rebels_ finale, pre-Battle of Scarif (I am bad at timelines).

There's the thought, somewhere in the back of Hera's mind, that she probably never would have agreed to this if she was feeling better.

Sabine would tell her that that was the point, of course: if Hera were feeling better she'd be off on a supply run, Sabine guarding her wing, or maybe locked in one of those interminable strategy meetings that Sabine _still_ wasn't allowed in, leaving her pacing outside and biting her nails until she could pounce on Hera and demand to know what they were doing next.

But a week into whatever allergic reaction she's had to one of Yavin's fruits she still feels like she's been sat on by a bantha, so Sabine has — and here Hera suspects Ahsoka's influence — taken it upon herself to sit with her, and take advantage of the way the midday sun outside Hera's window spilled over the jungle.

"You really don't have to do this," she reminds Sabine for what feels like the thousandth time. "You don't have that long before you and Ahsoka have to leave again, and —"

"And I'm doing this with my time," Sabine interrupts, continuing to set up her elaborate array of paints and brushes. "Is it really that hard for you to believe I'd come back specifically for you?"

Once upon a time it wouldn't have been. Once upon a time it was just a fact that the _Ghost_  crew would always find each other, no matter how scattered they were or how much danger they were in. Now ...

Time and the art of rebellion have taken too many lives, but they've taken certainties as well.

But that's not fair to Sabine. "No." Hera rolls over onto her stomach, props her chin on her crossed arms. "It's just ... I'm not good at sitting still. Time was, you weren't either."

Sabine laughs as she starts the careful process of mixing paints as delicately as if they were her equally-beloved explosions. "Trust me, I wouldn't do this for just anyone, _General_."

There's a sly look in her eyes when she glaces sidelong over at Hera, and the half-promise underlying her words has Hera shivering even in the tropical heat.

"Impressive." She licks her lips, mouth dry for reasons that have nothing to do with the allergies that have kept her inside for far too long. "Always good for a captain to see her crew picking up new skills."

Sabine's grin widens. "Just you wait, Hera." She swirls a finger idly through the paint, and Hera's can't help but follow the hypnotic pattern. "New skills, new colours ..." She presents a bright blue fingertip to Hera, and Hera's struck with the sudden urge to take it into her mouth. She knows, with the same sort of unerring certainty that washes over her in the cockpit as she lines up an impossible shot, that Sabine would let her.

"New materials." Sabine lightly taps the tip of Hera's nose, and just like that the spell's broken. Hera gasps, the cool touch of the paint so at odds with the warmth of Sabine's body. "Perfectly safe for both humans and Twi'leks," Sabine hastens to reassure her. "External _and_ internal use."

There's no mistaking _that_ tone of voice for anything but an invitation, but Hera just stares back in silence for a long moment, trying to put her racing thoughts in some semblance of order. Sabine is one of her best friends. Sabine isn't under her command anymore. Sabine is kriffing gorgeous. They're both going to go back to war in the next few days.

But she must take too long to find an answer, because Sabine pulls back, her face carefully schooled against all but the slightest hint of disappointment. "Not that it has to be, of course," she says lightly, and Hera makes her choice. Grabs Sabine's hand and gives in to the temptation to suck her fingertips into her mouth.

The paint tastes blandly awful, more metallic than anything, but it's worth it for the way Sabine's mouth falls open, for the blush darkening her cheeks.

"I mean," Sabine says when Hera releases her fingers. "I don't. I don't think I'd recommend eating it, but ..."

Hera sits up, headache forgotten. "What did you have in mind instead?"

"Well," Sabine says thoughtfully, looking up at Hera with sparkling eyes as she toys with the hem of Hera's shirt. "I was planning on painting your walls, but maybe I should do something with _you_ , instead. So many perfect colours ..."

That sounds an awful lot like an arrangement where Sabine gets to touch quite a bit and Hera gets to touch not at all, but the thought of having Sabine's paintings curling across her skin, semi-permanent reminders of her to carry for days, sets arousal burning hot in her belly.

Yeah, she can work with that. Hera rolls over onto her back, stretches her arms above her head. "Come on then," she says. "I'll let the artist work."

Sabine gets up from where she was kneeling next the bunk and surveys Hera appraisingly. Hera tries not to blush at the stare. "I can't work if you're wearing all that," Sabine points out.

"Oh? Well I thought that just because I was _grounded and not on bed rest that doesn't mean you can run around the jungle doing stars know what, Hera, that's not how you get better._ " It's an uncanny imitation of Sabine's fretting from not half an hour ago, at least until they both dissolve into giggles halfway through.

"You think I won't?" Sabine raises an eyebrow but doesn't move, like she's still waiting for Hera's okay.

Hera sighs. "Sabine, please. Don't make me order you."

She means it teasingly, but Sabine's eyes go distant and thoughtful, and Hera files that away as something to talk about again once they've figured out exactly what _this_ is. Sabine shakes her head before she can think too much about again. "Sorry, Hera. I know how much you hate waiting."

She settles on the bunk, straddling Hera's hips, and Hera sighs at the comfortable weight of Sabine on top of her. It's not an entirely new situation, they'd sparred enough in their time on the _Ghost_ , but it's different this time. Electric, as Sabine carefully pushes her tanktop up, stroking reverently over the soft green skin bared to her.

Hera squirms her arms out of the fabric and reaches up to help Sabine tug it over her head. When she looks up again to try to catch Sabine's eyes, though, she finds her gaze caught on the flat planes of her stomach. "What d'you think?" she can't resist teasing. "Better for drawing on than the walls?"

"Yeah. _Kriff_ , yeah." And then she's leaning down to capture Hera's lips in a messy, eager kiss, and Hera thinks that maybe being grounded isn't the worst thing that could have possibly happened this week.

Sabine kisses like she fights, intent and enthusiastic and determined to make it _right_ and it's fun in a way Hera thinks she'd forgotten things could be.

"And you thought I'd be bored sitting with you today," Sabine smirks when she draws back, rolling her hips experimentally against Hera's, and Hera groans at both the sensation and at Sabine's talent for proving her wrong in the most delightful of ways.

"Mm. I ... don't think I ever said bored," attempts, but Sabine just gives her another one of those _looks_ , and Hera grins in resignation. "Fine. I don't mind being proved wrong so much when it's you."

"That's what I like to hear." Sabine leans over to grab a paint pot and a brush, and Hera tries not to think too hard about how the motion brings Sabine's breasts directly into her eyeline.

 _Soon_ , she thinks, as a shiver of excitement flits down her spine. As eager as she is get her hands on Sabine, to let Sabine get her hands on much more interesting places, she genuinely wants Sabine to paint her, any way she likes.

"Now," Sabine says, and Hera's eyes fall shut as the brush meets the hot skin right underneath her breastband. "Hold still, and don't look til I say."

Those orders, Hera thinks, she'll be more than happy to obey.


End file.
